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carved carrots

I walk slowly, indolently, along the indigo street
Suffused with sultry stillness, rolled over by evening heat.

I push the revolving door, and walk into ... Siberia?
Air-con turned up so high, I fear onset of diphtheria.

Sighing silently, I put on my jumper, reflecting to myself
'In Rome I do as Romans do, but I'm in Kuala Lumpur.'

Waiter ushers me to table, and brings my ice-cold water
The table cloth starched bright-white, while blowers blow at speed of light.

The silent waiter comes over with silver tray and social grin,
Proffers small cold packet; almost impossible to get in
When not opened by teeth or knife, distant memories surface and suffice
Rolled up just so, and struck: a pop! and contents given up
The bounty? A small white, wet cloth, a perfumed odour given off
Initially unpleasant but strangely soothing, dab hands and face, skin slowly smoothing.

Then I order my evening meal, expecting spice added with excessive zeal.
Starter eventually polished off, with streaming eyes and sporadic cough
I decide I'd better not be boring, and order some meaty dish and Nasi Goreng
Meat marinated in sauce with rice; I do declare it's rather nice.

But what struck me as rather strange, was the centre-piece arranged
In pride of place on circular table - carved carrots. I was unable
To see any rhyme or reason, for after all it wasn't wabbit season...

updated Tue 02 Nov '04   give feedback...

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: : © Mike Bliss 2009